


Midnight Snack (in a Finnish Shack)

by BristlingBassoon



Category: Cheek (musician), Pete Parkkonen (Musician)
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Cabin, Closeted Character, Finland, Finnish rap, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Sauna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 04:42:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10891923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BristlingBassoon/pseuds/BristlingBassoon
Summary: In which Pete Parkkonen knows exactly what a sleepless Cheek wants.





	Midnight Snack (in a Finnish Shack)

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist that cringeworthy title.

He couldn’t sleep. 

Sure, the room was warm enough - just perfect, balmy and mild, despite the snow piling outside, and the driving wind beating at the panes. Sure, his bed was comfortable. When he’d arrived at the cabin he’d been impressed with what a lovely room it was. He hadn’t known that Elastinen’s holiday home would be this nice, what with how much he talked about it being some shabby forest hut he’d had in the family since great grandpa whatever. The fire was still glowing, he was still well-fed from his dinner, he had a glass of water right where he needed it…

but he still couldn’t sleep.

Perkele. Nothing for it but to get up. He clambered out of bed and slipped his feet into his house slippers, before shuffling off to the kitchen. 

The kitchen was a lovely well-appointed room, wood-panelled and hung with copper pans. Despite the rustic feel it had a fridge and a modern stove, and right there in front of the stove was… _him._ Tall, wearing only a singlet and some boxers, his brown skin gleaming in the low light. His hair was loose, curling around his shoulders, and when he saw Cheek enter the room he raised his dark eyes to the doorway and smiled. 

Cheek swallowed sharply. 

“Hey buddy,” Pete Parkkonen said, stirring a saucepan of - oh god, was it a saucepan of _milk?_ The fuck? “Anything going on?”

“Um, nothing - nothing much,” stammered Cheek, conscious of how good Pete looked, wanting to turn on the light so he could look at him better, but knowing this was nothing he could admit to. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” said Pete, now whisking the milk into a froth.

“What are you _doing?”_ Cheek said, gazing at Pete and his whisk with a mixture of fascination and horror. Pete’s forearms looked especially good in the glow from the stove. 

“Oh, I’m addicted to cappucinos,” Pete said casually. “Or at least my version of them.” Cheek watched him blearily as he produced a small coffee maker from nowhere. Pete’s movements had a lazy confidence about them, and Cheek found himself unable to tear his eyes away. 

“Hey, why are you still standing there?” said Pete, grinning. “How about you sit down.”

Cheek silently padded over to the table, stubbing his toe in the dark as he did so, and swearing loudly. Pete grinned, and came over with coffee for him, putting it down in front of him with a shrug. “Hey, drink it if you want.” He took his own mug and drunk deeply, pausing to wipe away a little line of froth on his top lip casually with the back of his hand. There was something sensuous about his mouth that Cheek was alarmed to realise he was noticing. He felt a twinge in his groin and looked away suddenly, staring very hard at the table.

“Hey man,” Pete said. Cheek could hear, rather than see him putting his mug down. “You were looking at my dick earlier weren’t you?”

“What?” Cheek spluttered. “No I wasn’t!”

“Relax, it’s totally fine,” said Pete, his voice sleepy and relaxed, the complete opposite to Cheek’s own tightly wound reply. “I saw you doing it when we were in sauna. You can look if you want.” 

He reached over and playfully clapped his hand on Cheek’s shoulder.

Cheek’s heart raced, and he wanted to crawl under the table and hide. Christ. This was the worst. THE WORST. He realised he had to put a stop to it, had to tell Pete that it wasn’t true, even…even though…

He’d been looking. He thought Pete couldn’t see him in the steam, but he’d been looking very hard at his shoulders and chest, those taut, glistening buttocks, and yes, he had to admit it, he’d allowed his eyes to rest for a moment on..it. Pete’s dick. Pete’s rather impressive dick. Sure, he’d looked away as fast as he’d realised he was looking, but the damage had been done, and the dick had been lingering in his mind for hours and hours. He imagined what it would look like if it were hard. He began to sweat.

Pete was now standing behind him, massaging his shoulders in a way that was maddeningly friendly.

“I’m - I’m not gay,” Cheek finally managed to mumble.

“Hey, you don’t have to be gay to appreciate it,” Pete replied with a chuckle. “I looked at yours too, you know.”

“Oh,” said Cheek, blushing horribly. 

“Yeah, it looked pretty good. In fact, I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.” 

Pete was now unbuttoning his shirt and sliding a hand in, in much the same way that he himself would unbutton a woman’s shirt, but instead of someone’s tits, Pete was stroking _his_ chest, his warm hand lightly running over _his_ nipple. Cheek gasped. Pete suddenly bent down and gave him a playful kiss on the neck, before straightening up and standing beside Cheek, his hand still lightly resting on his shoulder. Cheek turned to look at him and suddenly realised he was face to face with Pete’s crotch. 

“Would you like to see it?” Pete asked again, his hand already at the waistband of his boxers. Cheek felt his mouth go dry, and nodded. 

Slowly, slowly, Pete slid his boxers down, letting Cheek see everything. First, his hips, and that magnificent sculpted v Cheek had never had words for. Then, the dark hair at the top of his cock, and then, his cock itself, large and perfect. It was almost completely hard already, and with a few light, mesmerising strokes from Pete’s hand, performed completely unselfconsciously, it was standing away from Pete’s body, hot and hard and…  
“Hey, you know, you can suck it if you want,” said Pete, reaching over and tousling Cheek’s hair teasingly. “If you don’t want to it’s cool, maybe this is enough for now.”   
He put his hand on his waistband again, but before he had time to do anything, Cheek was reaching out and taking Pete in his hand. It felt familiar to him - after all, he’d handled his own cock plenty of times - but also strange, because it wasn’t his cock. It was someone else’s, someone who didn’t seem to mind what he did with it. 

He decided to try it. He opened his mouth and leaned over, waiting for Pete to thrust into it, like he himself had done so many times to so many women, but instead, Pete gently put a hand on the back of his head and left it there. No pushing, no thrusting, just an invitation. 

Cheek nervously began to lick, wondering what it would taste like. He was surprised at how velvety it felt against his lips, and how it didn’t taste much of anything at all, but most of all, he realised that Pete’s breathing was suddenly getting heavier, and Pete’s fingers were curling in his hair, and Pete was _praising_ him, telling him how well he was doing. He was so fucking encouraging. It felt good to have someone shower compliments on him, and he found himself eager to please, opening his mouth a little wider and allowing Pete’s cock deeper inside. It was a little odd, having it fill up his mouth like that, having to move his head back and forth, but he felt safe somehow, having Pete guide him. He knew he could do it.

“Hey buddy, you’re doing a great job,” whispered Pete, now moving his hips a little, thrusting his cock slowly in and out of Cheek’s mouth. “You can stop anytime, but this feels pretty fucking good.” 

Cheek put his hands on Pete’s hips to steady himself. Pete’s warm body felt very good under his palms, and he felt himself gripping on tightly, as he tried his best to please. Pete’s hand was cupping his face now, in a manner that felt surprisingly sensual. Mid-suck, Cheek looked upwards, and was amazed to see an expression of pure delight on his friend’s face. He wondered if he looked like that when someone was blowing him. It was a pretty great feeling to know he was responsible for that look. 

“I’m definitely going to suck your cock after you’re done,” Pete said huskily. “I’m gonna make you come so good - I mean nobody sucks cock better than someone who has one themselves. And I’ve - I’ve,” he gasped, as Cheek held his breath and took him almost completely into his mouth, “I’ve sucked a lot of guys in my time so I’m pretty good at it. Can’t wait to see your dick, by the way. You can get it out now if you want, get a head start -“

His suggestion came too late, as Cheek was already fumbling with his tracksuit pants with one hand, his mouth still full of Pete’s incredible cock. He felt simultaneously excited, but somehow free of the panic he’d felt before, as if controlling his breath was calming him. 

“Oh dude, that looks really fucking hot,” Pete moaned, as Cheek pulled his cock free and began to stroke it. “Hey, you’re going to have to stop for a second so that I can come - “

He pulled himself free, gasping, and managed to catch most of his load in a hastily reached-for handful of tissues. His chest was rising and falling rapidly with his gasps, but he was still able to smile very seductively at Cheek, who was trying to recover himself, sitting as he was, shirt unbuttoned, lips wet, and cock rock hard, not able to comprehend what he had just done, but not regretting a second of it. 

He regretted it even less when Pete pushed his knees apart and kneeled between them, smiling wickedly. 

Christ. There was going to be a lot of things to think about in the morning.


End file.
